Just 'Cause I Disappeared, Didn't Mean You Had To
by scarecrowblues
Summary: Shawn's been gone from Santa Barbara five years. Juliet's missing and Lassiter practically vanished in front of his eyes. T just in case. Bit of Shules and whumpage later on.


It was silent as Shawn Spencer awoke that cool, spring morning. Just another day for the shelf boy at 7-Eleven; rinse, wash, and repeat. Same old, same old. Shawn had gotten used to it by now, and his life was dwindling down to just the average routine, something he had dreaded happening to him his whole life. All he did was go to work, come home, sleep, and ponder why he kept doing the same the next day. He didn't have a love life; he didn't have any friends, or any family to keep him company. He had left that all behind nearly five years ago to live in Michigan.

Shawn didn't always used to live like this. He used to live in Santa Barbara, working for the local police department solving high-profile cases as their resident "psychic". He wasn't really psychic, but one knew this, besides his Dad and his best friend. He often reminisced of those days with his childhood best friend and partner Burton Guster, best known as Gus to him. They're bond was practically impenetrable, nothing could hurt their friendship. Shawn was sure when he just got up and left – without any notice – he had broken that bond between him and Gus. He missed his best friend dearly. They had been through everything you could imagine together.

He thought about his Dad a lot, too. He had mixed feelings towards his father, but he always knew he meant well. He always cared about Shawn and his well being above all things, even though he didn't show it often. He taught Shawn everything he knew about police work, abilities he was going to take with him to his grave. He saw his father's number show up on the phone at least once a year, but he never answered.. he was terrified of what he'd hear.

He couldn't forget Lassie for a second either. Serious but lovable, he had a special place in his heart for Lassiter even if Lassiter didn't exactly feel the same way about Shawn. Shawn enjoyed distracting and annoying him, much to Lassiter's dismay, but they never had a mutual hatred for each other. Lassie doesn't buy into Shawn's antics and psych prowess, but he eventually gives up on proving him a fraud, because psychic or not, he knew Shawn could solve cases.

Then there was Juliet. Oh, the lovely Juliet. Ever since laying eyes on her Shawn had been infatuated. It took him nearly five years to get the courage to date her, but before it could last even a few months, it all crumbled. He hated to think about it. That's why he left, he couldn't bear to look her in the eye after what he had done..

He stirred in these thoughts every breakfast, lunch, dinner and before he dozed off to sleep. There wasn't much else to do. He had seen Pretty In Pink and every episode of Chips over one hundred times, and all he was left to think about was his past. He always told himself it wasn't good to dwell on his past, but he did it anyways. He went over each adventure he'd ever had in Santa Barbara in his head, every night, and each one was different from the next.

One particular night, he was detailing an extradition in Canada he had with Desperaux, a world renowned art thief in his head as he dozed off to sleep. He remembered this is where he had first laid a kiss on Juliet, and time had seemed to stand still. He awoke in a cold sweat.

He heard bantering coming up the apartment stairs. He was the only one who lived on the top floor, and the maid only came by when he was at work. He shrugged it off and tried to fall back into his lovely dream. That's when he heard a sharp knock at his door.

"Spencer?" called a familiar voice.

Chills ran down Shawn's spine. No way in the world could it be, he thought in his head. He crept up from his bed and tip toed to the door. He remembered a technique his father had showed him as a child – to walk on your toes, literally, and then step your foot down. He looked through the peephole. He saw the penetrating eyes of Detective Carlton Lassiter look back into his.

"Open the door," Lassiter said, a hint of worry in his a voice.

So he did. Shawn slowly opened the door and there stood Lassiter. He didn't look much different; his hair had grown a bit longer since he had last seen him. It looked like he hadn't shaved in months. He didn't bother pointing this out to him. He just stood there, jaw dropped, staring at him.

"Surprised to see me, I assume," Lassiter began, "I have that kind of effect on people."

"Lassieface!" yelled Shawn, and before he got a chance to give him a hug, Lassiter had walked right by him.

"Do you ever clean up after yourself, Spencer?" Lassiter snapped. "Look at this place, it's a dump!"

Shawn didn't know whether to half-smile or not. Lassie went on.

"I thought you would have matured in the five years you've been gone. I suppose not."

"I – I have, Lassie, I really have – you're just assuming it's the same Shawn you knew five years ago!"

"You still call me Lassie, Spencer. You're exactly the same you were five years ago." He scowled.

"But, Lassiter, you don't – "

Lassiter didn't say anything, but Shawn had stopped dead in his sentence. He noticed a tear dripping down his face, and falling to the floor, which seemed to crash around him.

"Lassie.. "

He watched as the tears roll out off of the detective's face. He didn't know what to say, do, or feel. Had it been something he said, or the onions he had for dinner?

"Shawn, there's something I have to tell you. I wouldn't come out here just to tell you your room was a sty."

"Yes you would.. " Shawn paused. "Did you just call me Shawn?"

"Doesn't matter."

Lassiter had a look in his eye Shawn had never seen before. It was fear. He'd never seen it in his face before.

"Spencer.. O'Hara has been.. " he trailed off.

"Has been what, Lassie? Been cast in So You Think You Can Dance? Please tell me that's what it is."

"Spencer." His eyes penetrated his. He meant serious business.

"Okay."

"She went missing yesterday, after work."

Shawn's jaw dropped. He didn't know what to say. He slumped down in the nearest chair, his hands in his face.

"There was a note we found on her desk the night she went missing."

Shawn looked up. Lassiter took a small piece of white paper out of his pocket, and handed it to him.

"_Riddle me this,  
>Riddle me that,<br>I'm having a vision this is where lover used to sit and let the time pass,  
>Until you threw her away without a goodbye chat.<br>Your dearly beloved gone without a trace,  
>I promise this won't be the last disappearing face,<br>Do you still have what it takes to keep up with my pace?"_

Shawn looked up at Lassiter, and knew exactly what he had to do. He called his boss at 7-Eleven, and promptly quit. He packed his belongings. He had to make things right back in Santa Barbara.

"There's no time to lose."

He opened the door and sped out, until he noticed Lassiter wasn't following him. He looked back.

Lassiter was gone.

He panicked. Shivers ran throughout his body as he took a long look around. He couldn't notice anything out of place. This was the first time this had ever happened to him. He picked his cell phone out of his pocket and made a call. It rang a few times before the call was answered.

"…Dad?" Shawn gulped.


End file.
